


Mate

by Noppoh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Male Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 03:35:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20001676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noppoh/pseuds/Noppoh
Summary: When Draco returns to the common room after the curse-incident with Harry in the bathroom, Blaise decides he's had enough of Draco's behaviour. How will Draco react when Blaise confronts him?





	Mate

**Author's Note:**

> For my wonderful next-door neighbour who gave me a couple and a prompt and who, incidentally, also has her birthday today. So Happy Birthday to you! I hope you enjoy the story! :D
> 
> Massive thanks to ProfessorDrarry! You always manage to make my stories so much better. You are such an amazing Beta.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything even remotely related to Harry Potter. I merely love playing around with the characters.

“Mate, are you okay?”

“Leave me alone.”

“You look pale. Well, paler than usual.”

Draco didn’t respond. He already had Snape’s constant badgering to deal with, he didn’t need Blaise trying to meddle in his affairs as well. Exhausted, he turned towards the dorms.

“Back off!” he snapped as Blaise stepped in front of him. 

He’d almost bled out on the bathroom floor thanks to that idiotic Potter. For Merlin’s sake, the boy-who-had-started-it-all had seen him cry. Was there no end to his failure?

“Mate, you look like death warmed over.”

“It is no concern of yours!”

Draco tried to step around his friend, but Blaise wouldn’t have it.

“No,” Blaise stated with force, grabbing Draco’s arm. “I’ve had enough of this. Would you stop shutting me out?”

“Would _you_ ,” Draco hissed, “stop making a scene?”

Several heads in the common room had turned to watch them. A confrontation like the one they were having was a rare thing among Slytherins. They preferred words and actions to be covert, never downright faced each other.

“It seems it’s the only option I have left,” Blaise replied. “You have been snarking at us non-stop. It’s gotten to the point where the first-years are scared of you. If someone is making a scene, it’s you. Something’s up, and I’m done sitting on my arse and waiting it out.”

Draco snatched his arm from Blaise’s grip. “Who do you think you are?” he hissed, trying to keep his voice down. 

He was too tired for this. Blaise couldn’t help him. Nobody could help him. Why didn’t they all just leave him alone? The time he spent talking to them was time he could be spending fixing his problem. He needed to find a solution. His parents would die if he didn’t.

“We are going to have a talk,” Blaise hissed back, once more grabbing Draco’s arm and dragging him to their dorm. He warded the door as soon as it closed behind them. 

Draco staggered backwards when Blaise pushed him towards Draco’s bed. The Slytherin dorms all had two beds each, and Draco and Blaise had shared a room from year one. Slumping down, Draco turned his back on his friend.

“Get lost,” he muttered.

Much to his surprise, he felt the bed dip behind him. He shuddered when Blaise placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Talk to me, mate. I can see something is up – has been all year. I hate seeing you suffer.”

Draco was horrified when he felt tears well up in his eyes again. He would have thought he’d cried them all earlier. Would he really have to go through the humiliation of having someone see him cry for a _second_ time that day? He bit his lip and blinked furiously. 

When Blaise’s hand left his shoulder and started carding through his hair, though, Draco froze.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he snapped.

Blaise sighed and stopped, but didn’t leave the bed. “We are not leaving until you tell me _something_." 

Silence reigned.

“I know you’re branded, Draco,” Blaise finally said.

Draco shot up, violently spinning around and drawing his wand on his friend. “How do you know?” he roared.

Blaise seemed unperturbed – lazily raising his hands in the universal sign of surrender. “We sleep in the same room,” he said. 

“I make sure to change clothes when you can’t see. I sleep in a long-sleeved shirt.”

“You have a tendency to pull up your sleeves while you sleep. I’m guessing because you get too warm. You kick off your sheets too.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “You study me while I sleep?” he asked, incredulous.

“You have nightmares. They aren’t always silent.”

“I–” Draco lowered his wand. 

His summer had been far from easy. His current task was keeping him on edge and he’d woken more than once covered in sweat. He hadn’t realised he talked in his sleep or he would have raised silencing wards around his bed. What had he said? How much did Blaise already know? Draco blinked in mortification. What if he hadn’t only been talking in his sleep but screaming as well? Merlin knew he dreamed about his aunt’s perverted pleasures often enough.

“It’s okay, Draco,” Blaise all but whispered, putting his hand on Draco’s wrist and gently pulling the wand from his grasp. “It’s okay.”

Draco looked up into his eyes, expecting to see pity but, instead, finding something wholly different, something he couldn’t exactly place. Was it compassion? 

He could feel his carefully constructed walls crack. The pressure was getting to him, catching up. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of it. But he had no choice. This was not what his father had promised him, not anywhere near all the glorious stories he had been told as a child. It was horrifying, brutal, messy and bloody. It was pain and torture. Threats and enslavement. 

He was a sacrificial lamb to keep his family alive and they all knew it. His father had pushed him forward to be branded in an attempt to appease the Dark Lord. Draco had no choice. None whatsoever. And now he was stuck with an impossible assignment, trying to keep his parents alive by killing the only person this monster of a Lord was afraid of.

Blaise moved closer, lightly cupping Draco’s cheek, and this time, he didn’t shy away from the touch. Blaise’s hand was warm and comforting.

“I have to kill him,” Draco whispered. “Kill him, or my mother and father die.”

He could feel Blaise tense. Draco made to move away. He needed his wand; he needed to Obliviate Blaise. He should not have said that. It was not his friend’s burden to bear. It was foolish to try and find solace in Blaise’s touch. He was neutral and that was how it was supposed to be. Neutral meant he had a better chance of survival. If they got mixed up now… Draco decided not to think about that.

“No,” Blaise said, halting Draco’s movement by grabbing his shirt.

“Yes,” Draco answered. 

“The poisonous Meade,” Blaise whispered “The cursed necklace. That was you?”

Draco looked up, realising he was shaking. Why was he shaking? He didn’t respond to Blaise, merely watched emotion flicker over his face. He needed his wand. He needed to undo the damage he’d done. He felt sluggish and tired. There was one bottle of Pepper-Up potion left. Perhaps he should take it? So he wouldn’t damage Blaise’s brain. 

“Draco,” Blaise said, lightly touching the blonde’s face so he would look at him. “Draco, what happened over the summer?” 

Draco was still shaking. He couldn’t stop it. His mind felt like it was going to burst, yet he couldn’t think. Perhaps if he slept; perhaps then, he would be able to think again.

“Talk to me,” Blaise urged. 

He looked worried. It made Draco wonder about exactly how bad he looked. He couldn’t stand the worry. It hurt. He didn’t know what to do with it.

“He’s living at the Manor,” Draco whispered despite himself. “He’s been there all summer.”

Blaise paled. It made Draco believe that perhaps it _was_ something to be horrified about, and not some form of honour like his father had tried to make him believe. His father, who looked worse every day; who was still being punished for his failure at the Ministry.

“We should be honoured,” Draco muttered, trying to fight his treacherous thoughts. Wasn’t he supposed to want all of it? Hadn’t he been raised for it all his life?

“No!” Blaise exclaimed, aghast. He cupped Draco’s face with both his hands. “No. I can see you’re suffering. Don’t simply repeat what your father says, Draco. What do _you_ think? What is it _you_ want?”

“None of it.” It was barely above a whisper. The shaking was getting worse. The pain in his chest was getting worse. He felt like he was breaking apart. “None of it,” he repeated.

Blaise moved closer still, wrapping his arms around Draco’s shoulders. Much to his embarrassment, Draco sagged against Blaise’s firm body. He felt the dam inside him break, all the pent-up fear and pain and stress flooding out at once.

He sobbed like a child, clinging to Blaise as if he were his only anchor.. Blaise, who was whispering words of comfort. Draco could hear them but couldn’t respond; he couldn’t say anything as cries of pain tore from his throat. He was immensely grateful for the strong arm around his back and the hand carding through his hair. It made him feel like he wasn’t alone.

Exhaustion fell over him like a blanket and he slumped even more against Blaise’s shoulder. Somehow, he managed to lower them both down to the bed. Draco didn’t protest when Blaise didn’t let go, when he pressed himself against Draco’s back.

“Go to sleep, Draco,” Blaise murmured. “We’ll talk in the morning. Go to sleep.”

* * *

Draco woke up, not rested, but feeling lighter than he had in a long time. He was pleasantly warm and didn’t feel like fully waking just yet. It took him a bit to realise he was still wearing his clothes from the day before, and that he wasn’t alone in his bed.

“Are you awake?” Blaise murmured.

“You’re still here.”

“And you’re not shying away.”

“I shouldn’t let you get involved.”

“Too late for that, mate.”

“I can still Obliviate you.”

“I won’t let you.”

Draco turned around, remaining within Blaise’s arms. “Why not? It would be easier. It would be safer.”

“I would worry about you either way.”

“You’re acting like a Gryffindor.”

“It seems to be the only way to get your attention.”

Draco looked away from Blaise’s gaze. “I can’t let you do this.” 

“Yes, you can. Even Slytherins need allies, Draco. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“Perhaps, if I try my best but still fail, he’ll forgive me. Maybe then he’ll merely torture me, but keep my parents alive. Maybe, if I beg enough, he’ll leave Mother alone.”

“And your father?”

There was a long silence.

“He’s the one who got us into this mess,” Draco finally answered.

Blaise hummed. “Look at me, Draco.”

Reluctantly, Draco lifted his eyes again.

“Let me stand by your side.”

“You can’t. You’ll get dragged down. I refuse to drag you down.”

“Or I will keep _you_ from drowning.”

“It’s too late for that.”

“I refuse to believe that.” Blaise pushed some hairs out of Draco’s eyes. “Stop pulling away from me. Let me help you.”

Draco swallowed. Even now, with some decent sleep behind him, the lure of having someone to confide in was strong. There were words he wanted to say to Blaise, words that would change everything. He tentatively reached out and placed his hand on Blaise’s chest. 

“I need you safe. At least you.”

For once, he consciously let his mask slip, hoping Blaise would understand without having to be told. Blaise’s eyes roamed his face.

“Draco,” he all but whispered before moving closer. “I don’t care about ‘safe’.” 

Feeling Blaise’s lips press against his, a whimper escaped Draco. He had been fighting this for so long, had been pushing people away for so long, that every little bit of intimacy felt as if it burned into his skin. When Blaise pulled back, he followed him, needing the warmth.

Blaise hummed in response. Their lips met again in a gentle kiss — soft and slow. The arm that was still wrapped around Draco tightened, pulling him closer. Without breaking apart, Blaise turned them both so that he was hovering over him.

Draco cupped the back of Blaise’s head. His mind was still warring between pushing Blaise away to protect him, and accepting the comfort he was being offered. Blaise’s hand slid down Draco’s side and over his hip encouraging a leg to hook around his hips. Draco gasped lightly as his half-hardened cock brushed against Blaise’s thigh.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” Blaise murmured, breaking their kiss to brush his lips along Draco’s jaw. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“How very un-Slytherin.”

Blaise huffed out a laugh. “You are worth more than that,” he answered.

A small whimper escaped Draco and Blaise returned to kissing his mouth. 

“Hush now,” he said. “Forget about it all. Let me take care of you.”

Draco nodded his head. He felt fragile, his mental barriers were stretched to their breaking point and his emotions bubbling to break free. He shivered as Blaise’s hand slipped underneath his shirt, and froze when it encountered the remnants of last night’s wounds.

“What the hell?” Blaise exclaimed, surprised. 

He pushed himself up and frowned down to where his hand had disappeared beneath Draco’s shirt. He then sat up fully and started undoing the buttons. Draco let him, not knowing what to say or how to explain. He didn’t even know what the wounds looked like. Snape had healed them, but had warned him there would be scarring. Part of him wondered if that would cause Blaise to like him less.

When Blaise finally pushed open the shirt, Draco couldn’t stand it anymore and looked away.

“What happened?” Blaise asked, shocked. “These are recent.”

Draco shivered again as Blaise lightly started tracing the still tender skin. “Potter,” he grunted.

“ _Potter_ did this? How?”

“Some spell I’ve never heard of. Snape found me and healed me. He said I was lucky that he did. Apparently, I would have bled out if he hadn’t.”

“Potter nearly _killed_ you?” Blaise exclaimed.

Draco shrugged. 

“Don’t be so flippant!”

“He seemed as shocked by the result of his spell as I was.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Blaise growled. 

Draco shrugged again. What was the point? If he didn’t succeed in his mission, he would probably die anyway. 

“Hey,” Blaise said, his voice soft. He cupped Draco’s cheek and turned his head so Draco was forced to meet his eyes. “Don’t go there. Stay with me. Focus on me.”

Blaise kissed him again and Draco sighed. A moment’s peace, that’s what Blaise was promising him. A moment to get away from it all. Not to mention, fulfilling a desire Draco had been feeling for far longer than he was comfortable admitting. 

“That’s it,” Blaise murmured as Draco once more wrapped his arms around him.

Draco all but cried out as Blaise’s mouth moved from his to trace the fresh scars on his chest. He didn’t know what to think of Blaise’s ministrations. Wasn’t he repulsed by the welts that marred him? Did he not see them as a mark of yet another failure?

His thoughts were interrupted as Blaise dipped his tongue into his navel. Draco gasped, then moaned.

“You’re beautiful,” Blaise murmured.

Draco looked down and saw Blaise was already looking up at him. “I’m-” he started to say.

“Beautiful,” Blaise interrupted, moving up Draco’s body again. He very deliberately pressed his thigh against Draco’s cock. “And I _want_ you.”

Draco stared at him, feeling like he was standing right at the edge of a cliff, and he had to decide whether to jump down or back away. Abruptly, he reached for Blaise and pulled him down for a wild kiss. He would jump; he would jump and see where he ended up. 

Blaise reacted enthusiastically, lowering himself more and rubbing himself against Draco. Both groaned at the sensation.

“Clothes,” Draco muttered between kisses.

With a soft laugh, Blaise sat up. Draco followed suit, pulling his shirt from his shoulders while he watched Blaise pull his T-shirt over his head. He surged forward, eager to touch the darker man’s skin. Blaise moaned lightly as Draco let his hands roam his back while he peppered open-mouthed kisses on his chest.

“Draco,” Blaise sighed.

He gently grabbed a handful of Draco’s hair and pulled his head back. Bending over, he kissed him again and pushed him back against the sheets. Draco easily complied. He revelled in feeling Blaise’s skin against his. He groaned and bucked his hips as Blaise started sucking on his neck.

He wanted more, so much more. His cock was straining against the buttons of his pants, begging to be freed. His hands wandered down, grabbing Blaise’s ass and pulling him even closer. Blaise’s hand clenched at Draco’s waist. He exhaled against Draco’s neck, causing shivers do travel down Draco’s spine.

When Draco rolled his hips again, Blaise shuddered. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Blaise muttered. He jerked up and away from Draco, gasping. “I want this to last.”

Tracing lines over Blaise’s chest, Draco hummed in agreement. “I’ll be good,” he promised.

Blaise smirked down at him. “I want to hear you moan.”

Draco’s eyes widened. He sighed when Blaise started kissing along his collarbone, then yelped as teeth scraped his nipple. Blaise’s free hand roamed his chest before sliding down. Teasing fingers slipped under the waistband of his pants and Draco moaned. He protested when those fingers disappeared, and cursed loudly when Blaise placed his hand on the outline of his cock, squeezing him through the fabric of his pants.

“I wonder what you taste like.”

Blaise laughed softly as Draco’s hips bucked involuntarily at his words. Ever so slowly, he unbuttoned Draco’s fly, revealing black boxers and pressing a hot kiss to Draco’s covered cock after every button.

“Blaise!” Draco exclaimed. “Stop the teasing.”

“Eager? Giving orders now?” Blaise countered with a grin. “I think I’ll ignore them.”

Draco jerked as Blaise finally opened the last button and proceeded to cup his balls. He fondled them for a bit before taking hold of the stretch band of Draco’s boxers and pulling them down his legs together with his pants. 

“Glorious,” he muttered, looking up Draco’s body. 

Draco propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at Blaise. “You too,” he said, husky. 

Draco stared, lips parted and breath heaving, as Blaise stood with a smirk and started loosening his own pants. When Blaise pushed them off his hips and his erect, weeping cock sprang forth, Draco groaned in admiration. He grabbed himself, pumping lightly as he took in Blaise’s naked body.

For a moment, Blaise did the same. With a small cry, he released himself and kneeled back on the bed. Draco watched him as Blaise dragged his hands up his legs. 

“It’s my turn,” Blaise said, looking from Draco’s hand, up to his face, and back down.

Draco let go of himself and instead clawed at the sheets. Seeing Blaise hovering so close to him, feeling the man’s breath ghost over his rock-hard dick, had him tremble with want. He moaned loudly and threw his head back when Blaise dragged his tongue from his balls to the tip of his cock. When Blaise took him in his mouth, Draco cursed.

“Fuck, Blaise! Oh, sweet Merlin. Yes!”

Blaise laughed around Draco’s cock, making him buck wildly. When a hand joined that hot, moist mouth, Draco thought he would lose it. He focussed hard. He wanted this to last as well. Blaise seemed to realise and slowed down. His touch became soft, teasing almost. Draco let out a breath and looked back down to Blaise.

“Kiss me,” he asked, caressing Blaise’s face with his fingers. “Come up here and kiss me.”

Blaise obliged, planting small kisses on Draco’s stomach and chest along the way. When their lips finally met, Draco cupped the back of Blaise’s head, keeping him in place. He could taste himself on Blaise’s tongue. 

Draco hooked a leg around Blaise’s hips and pulled him closer. They both moaned when their cocks met. Draco rolled up into Blaise, increasing the friction. He groaned and Blaise bit into his shoulder.

“Draco,” Blaise sighed, licking away the sting of his bite. “I’m so close.”

“Me too,” Draco answered, tilting his head to the side to give Blaise better access to his neck. His hands roamed Blaise’s back. “Me too.”

They panted as they slid against each other. It felt amazing. Their skin slicked with sweat and their movements became more frantic as they moved towards completion. 

Blaise buried his face in the crook of Draco’s neck. “I’m going to…”

“Yes,” Draco moaned.

With a groan, Blaise came. Draco followed suit. He moaned and stiffened. It felt like, with his body’s release, something else broke in him as well. Blaise collapsed on top of him and Draco distractedly wrapped his arm him. His breath hitched and he was embarrassed to feel a tear roll down his cheek. Blaise stirred, pushing himself up and looking down at Draco.

“I’m sorry,” Draco said, confused. He could make head nor tails of the emotions that were swirling through him; he only knew the hurt, badly. “I don’t know–”

“Hush,” Blaise whispered, kissing away yet another errant tear. 

Draco could feel him reach towards his wand. He felt like keening and sobbing all over again. He wasn’t sure what was happening. He felt like he was ruining what should have been a perfectly blissful moment. 

Blaise muttered a spell and cleaned them up. He rolled to the side and pulled Draco against his chest. “Let it all out,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry,” Draco said again. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I don’t know...” 

He hiccupped, fighting down the wail that wanted to escape his throat.

“It’s okay,” Blaise said, caressing Draco’s hair. “It’s okay. Just let it all come out.”

Unable to hold back, Draco buried his head against Blaise’s chest and dissolved. He held onto Blaise as if he was the only thing that kept him from drowning. It was as if with every sob, a piece of his pain broke loose, wreaked havoc in his chest, then came out through his tears. Blaise held him and stayed silent, his fingers a soothing presence in Draco’s hair.

“We’ll get you out of this,” Blaise said when Draco finally settled down again. “We’ll find a way.”

“It’s impossible,” Draco answered.

“We’ll find a way,” Blaise repeated, firmer this time. “But let’s take a nap first, hmm?”

“What time is it?”

“Haven’t a clue, but it’s still dark out so there’s plenty of time for a nap.”

Draco looked over Blaise’s shoulder to the painting Blaise’s mother had given him. It was charmed to depict the outside weather. Currently, it displayed a sky full of twinkling stars and a few stray clouds. The edges of the portrait were greying.

“Alright,” Draco muttered, lying down again. He felt secure in Blaise’s arms. Not safe — he didn’t think he would feel safe anywhere for a very long time to come — but grounded. 

They woke up to their regular morning alarm. Blaise cursed, like he did every morning, and Draco tightened his grip on the man. He didn’t want to get up. He didn’t want to return to reality where death loomed over him whichever way he turned.

When the alarm rang a second time, Blaise cursed louder and wildly grabbed for his wand. After cancelling the spell, he shook his head and sat up. Draco turned to lay on his back. Blaise looked at him, uncertainty in his eyes. Draco felt the same. Had what had happened been a one-time thing? Or were they for real? He refused to ask Blaise to be with him, not with the life he was living, but he knew now that he would never be able to turn him down if Blaise decided he wanted to stay.

“Good morning,” Blaise ventured.

Draco smiled. “Good morning.”

“Are you okay?” Blaise asked, reaching for Draco’s face, hesitating slightly before caressing his cheek. “You look a mess.”

“Well, thanks.” Draco glared at him good-naturedly.

“It’s true.” Blaise grinned. “You definitely need a shower.”

“The same goes for you, you know.”

“Hmm. Now there’s a thought.”

Draco huffed and sat up as well. “We should get ready for breakfast,” he said, looking at Blaise’s lips and wondering if he had the courage to kiss them.

“You can, you know,” Blaise murmured.

“What?”

“Kiss me, if you want.”

Draco looked up at him and saw the vulnerability in Blaise’s eyes. He leaned forward and lightly pressed his lips against Blaise’s.

“Morning breath, though,” he teased before getting up fully.

“There must be a charm for that,” he heard Blaise mutter behind him. It made him laugh.

They headed for the bathrooms where they showered and brushed their teeth before returning to their bedroom to get changed.

“Why don’t you talk to Professor Snape?” Blaise asked. “Merlin knows he’s been hovering around you all year. It makes sense now though.”

Draco stiffened. “I don’t trust him,” he finally answered, mechanically continuing to button up his shirt.

“He’s your godfather,” Blaise countered.

“And branded. I have no doubt he’s reporting my every move to the Dark Lord.”

There was a short silence.

“Are you sure about that?” Blaise ventured.

Draco turned around to face him. “He’s in the inner circle, Blaise.”

“And working right here, at Hogwarts.”

“That’s because he’s a _spy_.”

“For whom?”

“Are you really questioning his loyalty to the Dark Lord? Nobody defies that monster, Blaise.”

“I’m thinking that nothing happens in this castle that professor Dumbledore doesn’t know about. Are you telling me that Professor Snape is capable of defying the one person your monster is afraid of?”

Draco gaped at him. He had never considered that. Dumbledore didn’t seem anywhere near as dangerous as the Dark Lord, yet he was the one person He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named was afraid of. No matter how he looked at it, Snape was tricking one of two very powerful wizards, or else he was walking a very thin line between them. 

Blaise walked up to Draco, placing a hand on his chest. “I think it’s worth a shot, Draco. You need help.”

“But what if it’s the wrong gamble?”

“Can your situation truly get any worse?”

Draco stared at Blaise. There was no predicting what would happen if Snape reported him to the Dark Lord. He feared for his mother, feared for his own life. But, then again, didn’t he do that on a daily basis now?

Eventually, he nodded almost imperceptibly. 

“Good,” Blaise exclaimed, clasping Draco’s shoulder. “Let’s head to his office, then.”

“Now?” Draco questioned. He hated how panicked he sounded.

“Yes, now,” Blaise said, all but dragging Draco to the door. “Before you change your mind.”

Draco spluttered but Blaise wouldn’t relent. When they were about to enter the common room, Draco shook himself loose. “Fine,” he hissed, not wanting to make a scene. Propriety had been ingrained in him since birth. “Lead the way then.”

Blaise threw him a grin before walking through the room and out of the portrait door. Once they were out in the still deserted hallway, he came to walk next to Draco and took hold of his hand.

“It will be fine,” he said.

“Don’t try to soothe me with meaningless platitudes,” Draco snapped, his nerves getting the better of him. “You know just as well as I do that this could turn out very badly.”

Blaise merely hummed in response. He didn’t seem bothered by Draco’s outburst, still Draco felt a little bad about it. He squeezed Blaise’s hand.

By the time they reached Snape’s office, Draco felt nauseated from tension. Blaise gave him a sideways glance before knocking on the door.

“Enter.”

They walked in to find Snape standing behind his desk, putting down a book. His eyes flickered from one to the other, then down to their joined hands.

“What brings you two to my office so early?” he asked.

“Draco has something to ask,” Blaise said, squeezing Draco’s hand once before pushing him forward. 

Draco threw him a glare over his shoulder, then faced his godfather. The man’s face was a perfectly neutral mask. There was no way of knowing what he was thinking. Draco focussed on his own Occlumency shields.

Despite Blaise’s words earlier, he still didn’t trust Snape. The sheer size of the risk he was taking battered down on him, rendering him mute. The soft touch of Blaise’s fingers on his back calmed him enough to force out the words.

“I need help.” Snape’s eyes flickered towards Blaise. “He knows. All of it,” Draco said.

“That’s quite a risk you’ve taken,” Snape answered.

“As is this,” Draco replied.

“You don’t trust me.”

“Is that so surprising?”

“No. I would say it’s smart.” Snape glanced at Blaise again. “What type of help do you need?”

“What do you know?”

“Of your mission? Everything, since your mother came to me for help.”

“Mother _trusts_ you?” Draco asked, incredulous.

“I believe it was more a matter of me being the only option she had,” Snape answered dryly. 

“So that’s why you’ve been keeping such a close eye on me? Because Mother asked you to?”

“More or less.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at him, well aware that there were things being left unsaid. Snape was regarding him solemnly, as if waiting for something more. Draco decided to take the risk.

“I don’t want to do it,” he admitted.

“The man will die either way.”

“Excuse me?”

“He will die, whether you kill him or not,” Snape repeated. “Is that what you want? Resolve to do what must be done?”

“He wants out,” Blaise interjected.

Snape hardly moved, only his eyes shifted to look at Blaise. Draco, however, swirled around to face him. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed.

Blaise ignored him, instead looking straight at Snape. His posture was full of confidence. It was obvious he wouldn’t back down.

“He wants out,” Blaise repeated.

“Is that so?” Snape inquired.

Draco felt panic well up in his chest. “He will kill them!” he shouted. “This is madness! All of this is madness, but I can’t let them be killed by a–” He abruptly stopped himself, glancing at Snape. How much of this would find its way to The Dark Lord? 

“I will do whatever needs to be done in order to secure their survival,” Draco continued, pulling himself up to his full height.

“Would you betray them? Betray your father?” Snape asked.

“What?”

“How eloquent,” Snape drawled. “Your father would never leave the Manor behind, unless we force him. Your mother, well, she’s a Black, first and foremost.”

“My mother–leave behind the Manor? How? What?”

“You can get _them_ out too,” Blaise muttered.

Draco looked at Blaise, eyes wide, then back at Snape, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. 

“Now, if you two could leave? I was about to eat breakfast.”

Shocked and uncertain that he could believe what he’d just heard, Draco didn’t protest when Blaise guided him back out of the office.

“Boys,” they heard Snape call out before the door closed behind them. Draco bristled at the word. “I expect you to know the importance of discretion.”

“Yes, sir,” Blaise answered for the both of them.

* * *

It was a tense month; Draco pretended to continue blundering his mission while they waited for news from Snape. The Potions Master didn’t acknowledge them in any way. Draco got tenser by the day and Blaise hardly ever left his side.

Some relief came when, half way through June, Draco received a letter from his mother. In it were two sets of cufflinks. For him and his friend, it said, may they wear them at all times. He looked up at the head table and saw Snape nod once at them. 

Understanding, he promptly offered a pair up to Blaise. How his mother had gotten Portkeys past the Hogwarts wards was beyond him. However, it filled him with relief to know something was happening behind the scenes.

They had to wait another two weeks before anything happened. Blaise and Draco had been snogging in their dorm when the sound of yelling and flying curses reached their ears. Draco paled, guessing what was going on.

“He got them in!” he exclaimed, panicking. “Snape is on _his_ side after all! He got them in!”

After that last exclamation, their cufflinks glowed bright and they were both whisked away. When they landed, Draco spun around frantically, expecting crazed laughter or even a green flash coming his way. He grabbed for his wand as the door on the far side of the empty room opened.

“Draco! Oh, by Circe, you’re safe!”

“Mother?” Draco managed to utter before Narcissa enveloped him in her arms and held him close.

“You’re safe,” she repeated, the relief evident in her voice. “We got out.”


End file.
